


BlueBastard's Book of TeW Tumblr Drabbles

by BlueBastard



Series: BlueBastard's Fandom Collection Works [1]
Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Multi, Smut, mostly fluff and angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 19:38:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 12,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13818042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueBastard/pseuds/BlueBastard
Summary: I write a whole lot of short drabbles on Tumblr and after asking if you guys would like me to upload here as well, I got a resounding YES! So here you go! Most of these are Stefano lol because that what I get requested most!





	1. [Stefano Valentini]  “You’re so clingy, I love it.”

The Dark Room was a place you didn’t visit very often. Stefano liked his privacy when he worked and you respected that. You missed him, though. He’d been in there non-stop, it was late, and you were in need of some tender loving care. So, you tiptoed down the hallways in your pyjamas, past his beloved Obscura, and into his blood red inner sanctum. The sweet melody of Tchaikovsky’s  _Serenade for Strings_  greeted you as you snuk into the room quietly. There he was –his signature purple jacket folded over a nearby chair and his shirt sleeves rolled up, expertly handling the freshly developed pictures. His concentration was fixed upon the ones on the drying rack. They were beautiful as ever. You breezed closer and gently wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, resting your head against his back.

“Ah, (Y/n), you startled me,” Stefano said as his hands found yours. He held them for a moment before unhooking them from around his torso so he could turn to face you. You sank into his chest and welcomed his touch with every fibre of your being. “What are you doing here,  _cara_?”

“Stefano,” you cooed, “Come to bed with me, please.” Your arms snaked up his body, finding their place in his neck. You placed a gentle kiss on his lips and felt him melt into you. He responed with vigor. It seemed you weren’t the only one in need of attention. Stefano chuckled into the kiss, hands roaming your body like it was the first time he was allowed to touch it.

When you finally parted, Stefano smirked down at you. “Very well, my love, It seems you’ve convinced me.” He swooped you up into his arms, making for the bedroom and –while it was unexpected– you didn’t mind in the slightest. In fact, you nestled even closer and took the opportunity to peck his cheek. 

Stefano laughed.  **“** **You’re so clingy, I love it.”**


	2. [Stefano Valentini] “I just got out of the shower, I can’t dance! What if my towel falls off?”

Babysitting the horrific amalgamations Stefano created was hard work and some times you just needed a break. Guardian was running rampant in the streets of Union and wouldn’t listen to your pleas to come back home. Meanwhile, Obscura had gotten a bit enthousiastic with a can of paint and you had become the victim of that. You had had **enough**.

You had just gotten out of the a well-deserved, calming shower. Walking into the foyer of Stefano’s abode, dripping wet but relaxed, you felt a sudden presence make itself known. A devious hand reached out to you, pulling the damp towel from your head. Wet locks of hair came tumbling down onto your shoulders, flowing freely. “Stefano!” you whined, turning to face the perpetrator. The Italian artist offered a smirk, playing with the towel that had been keeping your hair in place.

“So, here you are. I was looking for you.” He snapped his fingers and the room changed. The once familar surroundings melted away to reveal a vast emptiness you didn’t recognize. Shiny marble floors appeared underneath your bare feet –cold to the touch. Deep red drapes hung from the void above, reaching far beyond your line of sight. The red fabric closed in to surround the both of you. He chucked at your awe-struck expression and tossed the wet cloth aside before reaching out a hand.  “May I have this dance,  _cara?_ ” he asked. A hauntingly beautiful waltz started playing.

You crossed your arms over your chest, making sure to hold onto the towel covering your body. Stefano had already stolen one, you wouldn’t put it past him to try and get rid of the other either. “What?  _Now?_ ” you asked,  **“** **I just got out of the shower, I can’t dance!”**

Stefano stepped closer, determined. “And?” He gently took your hands, laying one on his shoulder and holding the other in the palm of his right hand.

“ **What if my towel falls off?”**  you protested. A blue flash blinded you, and before you could stop him, Stefano had already shredded the towel with the tip of his dagger.

“Your body is the one masterpiece I couldn’t take credit for, my love. Why hide it at all?”


	3. [Stefano Valentini] “I don’t need a hero, I need a husband.”

“Stefano, please!  _Wait!!_ ”

You hurried down the marble steps of the Grand Theater, chasing after your husband who had gone off in a mad rage. Ever since everything had gone to hell in Union, Stefano had been –overprotective, to say the least. He would never let you out of his sight, not even for a second. Things only got worse when he disappeared one day, only to return with incredible powers. He wouldn’t say how he got them, but he promised you he’d use them to protect you at all costs. If you had known that would send him into the jaws of death today, you never would have let him utter those words.

If only that detective hadn’t approached you –gun drawn, raving about this little girl and how Stefano was dangerous.

You nearly tripped over yourself trying to catch up. The man was determined and had long legs. Not to mention the teleportation. He was about 10 feet away when you called out. “Please! Don’t go out there!” Stefano stopped walking and turned to face you. You took advantage of the opportunity and closed the distance.

The look on his face spoke volumes: he was livid. “That man  _–that monster!–_  pointed a gun at  _my Bella_!” Stefano spoke through gritted teeth. “I’m going to make sure he pays for that.”

**“I don’t need a hero, love, I need a husband.”**  You gently put your hand on his cheek –resting just below his bad eye. It was glowing a striking blue, but at your touch the sheen dimmed and Stefano seemed to calm down. You leaned in and gave him a quick kiss; that was all he needed to feel at ease again. His hands found yours and he held them close to his lips, giving them gentle assuring kisses.  _‘I’m okay. You’re okay. We’re okay,’_  he repeated to himself.

“If he comes near you again…” Stefano started, but you hushed him.

“He won’t. I’ll never leave your side again. And if he does show up, we’ll handle it. Just promise me one thing: no heroics. When I said  _yes_  to ‘till death do us part’ I intended that to be far away, and I want to enjoy your company for many more years.”

He kissed you, gentle and sweet. “Of course,  _Bella._  Anything you wish.”


	4. [Stefano Valentini] “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?” “Mind if I join you?”

You couldn’t believe your eyes. Full glory –c _ompletely exposed._

“S-Stefano?!” You stood in the doorway to your bedroom, hand still resting on the doorknob. This was not what you expected to see when you returned home after a night of socializing at a gallery event. First of all, how had he even gotten into your apartment? He didn’t have a key. And secondly,  _why was he in his birthday suit_? 

You stared at the bed with your mouth slightly agape; you couldn’t help it. A stubborn blush crept onto your face and you could feel the  _smug_  radiating from the man lounging on your sheets. You were frozen in place, unsure of how to react to the scene before you.

He rolled onto his side, propping an arm up to support his head, and sought your eyes. “I was wondering when you might return,  _Bella_. I was getting quite chilly,” Stefano said, casually sprawling his legs out into an even more obscene position. He was doing this on purpose.

“ **Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”**  you asked, proud you managed not to stutter.

Stefano let out an amused chuckle and shook his head. “I’ve been trying to seduce you, but alas, subtlety is lost on you. Do I have your attention now?”

“You were trying to sedu–?” You stopped yourself. Stefano gave you a knowing look. Oh, you were  _dense_. It all made sense now. The stolen glances, the soft touches –the teasing smiles. All those random acts of kindness and affection were not so random after all. You should have noticed his intentions long ago –a child would have noticed! No wonder he resorted to such shameless methods.

“Well,  _Bella_? What do you say?”

You had an attractive, talented artist in your bed.  _Naked_. He had laid himself bare, so to speak. It was a bit dramatic –and incredibly exciting. The shock had worn off by now and you knew what you wanted. You smirked, pulling your shirt over your head.  **“Mind if I join you?”**

“I thought you’d never ask. Hurry over here, you’ve kept me waiting long enough.”


	5. [Stefano Valentini] “Ready or not, here I come.”

You bit your tongue, breathing heavily through your nose. This stairway wasn’t going to keep you hidden forever; you needed to move, fast. You glanced out from under the steps, eyes narrowing at the man who seemed to appear and disappear at will. Blue smoke erupted from his body every time he shifted. It was unnatural. He looked around, searching for you. How you had ever managed to outrun him was beyond you. But here you were, trapped like a rat in a cage with freedom just a few feet away.

“Come out,  _cara._  I know you’re in here,” he cooed. You glanced at the open door at the end of the hall and considered making a break for it. No way in hell you were becoming one of his masterpieces. You’d fight the fucker if you had to. A bit of a cocky idea, but you’d do it!

Just when you thought about taking the risk and booking it, the man evaporated again. You waited, counting the seconds. A minute passed and he hadn’t come back. Just to be sure, you waited another 20 seconds. He’d given up. You emerged from your hiding spot and stalked towards the door, careful to be quiet. Suddenly, a dagger whizzed past your head and lodged itself into the doorframe. You spun around, staring straight into the face of Stefano Valentini. He stood where you had been hiding before, a crooked grin on his face. You’d been tricked!

“ **Ready or not, here I come,”**  he said, conjuring up another dagger out of thin air.

You took off like a bullet. This place was a damn maze, but if that meant you could lose him by cutting corners, you would give it a go. You heard him move in, giggling like a mad-man every time he got closer. There was no escaping him, but you’d be damned if you didn’t try. Nothing was impossible. The exit was just ahead, if you could just get onto the street and make B-line for the safe house, you’d be okay.

For a moment, you really thought you’d make it. Before your hand even touched the door, a blue flash stunned you and an arm wrapped around your waist.

“Tag, you’re it,” he teased, tossing you back into the hall, away from your escape route. He appeared in front of you, giving you no time to recover and fisted your shirt. Your feet dangled hopelessly as he lifted you with ease, pinning you to the wall. “This has been entertaining,  _cara_. You put up quite the fight.” His face softened. “It’s almost a shame I have to…Actually, I think I’ll keep you for a while. I’m not done playing with you yet.”


	6. [Stefano Valentini] “Looks like we’re going to be stuck here for a while.” “Scoot over a little bit, please.”

“Obscura, darling, listen to daddy and let us out!” Stefano said, his hand resting on the wooden surface of the closet door. Outside, his pride-and-joy let out a gurgle of defiance. “ _Obscura_ ,” he warned, but the creature wouldn’t hear it. One of her many legs bumped against the door, keeping it shut.

“What’s gotten into her?” you asked.

The artist sighed. “I’m afraid I don’t know.”

You were chest to chest, standing in a cramped storage unit of the Grand Theater. Stefano’s lovely Obscura had taken it upon herself to trap you both in here and refused to move away from the door. You could not imagine why. One moment you were walking, side by side, complimenting his new piece, and the next Obscura came down from the ceiling and knocked you both back into this closet. Between the stage equiment and two grown-ass adults, there was hardly any room left to breathe in. Stefano had tried reasoning with her, but Obscura wouldn’t budge.  

“ **Looks like we’re going to be stuck here for a while** , (Y/n)” he said.

“What? For how long?”

“I wish I knew,” he admitted, “Until she deems it long enough? She’s very stubborn that way.”

It was so hot in here it was almost unbearable. You tried keeping your distance, but the room was so small every movement you made brushed against him. Stefano loosened his scarf, letting it hang loose and scraped his throat.  **“Scoot over a little bit, please,”**  he said.

You raised a brow. “To where exactly?” There was nowhere to go!

“To here,” he said, grabbing your hips and positioning you against the back wall. His hands lingered and you could feel your face heat up. If his plan was to give you more room to breathe, Stefano had failed miserably. In fact, you swore he’d moved even closer. “I think I’ve figured out why Obscura is acting this way,” he whispered. Your hands fell against his chest as you tried to break free, but he stopped you. Stefano leaned closer, head coming to rest in the crook of your neck. He inhaled your scent and sighed. “You see, she is an extention of my imagination. Therefore, she knows what I desire most.”

“What’s that?” you asked.

“You.” His lips found yours, and as soon as they did, Obscura busted open the door with a gleeful but horrific screech.

–

**BONUS ROUND**

A few days after the storage incident, you had made a revelation that changed your life. Furious, you stormed into Stefano’s workshop.  _“You could have just teleported out!”_  you announced. “Was all that just a scam to get to kiss me?”

The artist shrugged and gave you sly smirk, but no definitive answer.

“You bastard! You knew exactly what Obscura was doing!”

Stefano stood from the couch and approached you. His hands rested on your shoulders, then gently slid down your arms to grab yours. “Do you regret it?” he asked, placing a soft kiss on your cheek.

You turned away and crossed you arms with a huff.

“Darling?”

“No,” you admitted. “You’re still a prick, though.”


	7. [Stefano Valentini] “We’ve become the clingy couple you used to complain about.” “I thought it was a one-night-stand…and now we’re married…”

Tonight was your anniversary. In honour of your marriage, Stefano had insisted on throwing a big party to show the world just how in love you were. Your husband had been meticulously planning out the festivities for weeks –nothing was left to chance. This night was your special night, and everything had to be perfect. Only the best would do for you.

You were out on the floor, mingling with your guests when the man of the hour made his way down the marble steps of your humble home. A couple of colleagues nodded hello, but Stefano only had eyes for you. Without wasting any more time, the artist crossed the room and wrapped his arms around you.

The passion he expressed when he grabbed your waist and pulled you close was as intense as the first time. The same enthousiasm could be found within his kisses too. Stefano kissed you like it had been ages, lingering longer than was socially acceptable. He even dipped you. The attendees visibly squirmed and you had to break the kiss with a chuckle.

“Darling, please! You’re making our guests uncomfortable,” you laughed, swaying your hips away from his—Stefano wouldn’t have it, and pulled you closer for another kiss. You playfully slapped his shoulder, he desisted and backed away with a cheeky grin.

“Apologies, my love,” Stefano said. “I just can’t help myself when you’re wearing that outfit.” As he said this, your lover’s hand trailed up and down your side –toying with the fabric of your favourite ensemble. At his touch, goosebumps erupted all over your body and you had to stop yourself from dragging him into one of the back rooms for some alone-time. There would be plenty of time for that later.

You cast a look at the distressed faces around you and couldn’t help but smile at the irony. “We’ve become the clingy couple you used to complain about.”

“That’s not the most surprising thing to come out of this relationship,” he said, offering an arm.

You took it, and Stefano started guiding you into a dance. The rhythm was slow and romantic. You effortlessly floated across the room together, uncaring of how sentimental or melodramatic it might have looked. For a moment the noise of the crowd seemed to disappear. You saw only him, and remembered how truely blessed you were to have met this man.

“Tell me about it.” You chuckled, shaking your head. “I thought it was a one-night-stand…and now we’re married…”

Stefano smiled, fondly thinking back to when you had first met. No one could have predicted that one night of passion would leave such a permanent mark on your lives. Yet here you were. You had snuk into his heart and you were not leaving. “Da quando ti conosco la mia vita è un paradiso,”[1] he said before placing a gentle kiss on you forehead. “After that night, I knew I couldn’t possibly let you get away.”

–

Notes:

[1] “Since I met you my life is a paradise.”


	8. [Stefano Valentini] “You’re competitive and so am I, and it’s going to lead to a fight.” “I let you win.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one was requested to tie into My ARTnemisis! :D

“You know, I changed my mind. I think this is a bad idea,” you said, staring at the literal buckets of pigs blood on the floor. A big tarp was laid out in front of you. On it, a blank canvas the size of a large dinner table was rolled out and secured tightly to the ground with camping pegs. The idea was that you would do some action painting together, you know? Get real dirty and just play around on the tarp until Stefano was satisfied with the result.  _‘An artistic experiment,’_  he had called it.

“Why,  _mia dolce_? You were so eager just a minute ago,” he teased, rolling up his sleeves and kicking off his designer shoes. He popped the lid of one of the buckets, then, dipped both arms into the crimson mess inside, coating them in blood all the way up to his elbows.

“ **You’re competitive and so am I, and it’s going to lead to a fight.”**  You made a face and he only chuckled in response, flicking some of the blood onto your face. “I mean it,  _Valentini_!” you let out, wiping the drops from your cheek with brisk stroke of the hand. “I swear, you’re  _already_  pissing me off.”

Stefano strolled over and stood in the middle of the canvas, lifting his arms high and inviting.  “Then fight me,” he said. “Or are you afraid you’re not quite up to the task?” The blood dripping from his fingertips stained the empty white space by his feet as he waited for your reply. He did not have to wait long. Your pride spoke before you could stop yourself.

“Not up to the–?! You’re on,  _Mr. Valentini_.”

You dipped your bare feet into the bucket and danced onto the sheet, dragging your pace to make beautiful red brush strokes towards him. Once you were within reach, Stefano grabbed you, locking both arms around your smaller frame, and picked you up. His bloody hands stained your sun dress. You were the brush and he was the artist –all Stefano wanted was to wield you like a tool and use your body for his art. You fully intended on fighting back however, and he loved it.

You wiggled free from his grip and ducked under his arms, pushing him back with all your might. Stefano fell onto the canvas, large palm prints appearing where he had landed. He raised a brow and smirked up at you.  _Such passion_. He admired your spirit and let you enjoy this small victory. It was short-lived, anyway. He grabbed you by the ankles and pulled you down onto him in an instant. His hands roamed your body. Stefano felt giddy seeing the red fluid transferred onto your shoulders, chest and thighs. A laugh escaped him as you struggled to turn him over so you were on top. You made your escape somehow, rolling off him and doing a graceful sort of spin towards the edge of the canvas.

“We’re not done here,  _mia dolce_.” Stefano persued, pulling the fabric of your dress and tearing it as he pulled you back towards him. You’d never met a man so swift. He had you locked down beneath him before you even realized it. Your chest heaved as you caught your breath.

“Bested again, my dear.“

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t gloat, it’s impolite. Besides,  **I let you win**. Best two out of three?”


	9. [Sebastian Castellanos] “Get it together, I need you!” “Don’t you dare look away from me!”

The echoing thuds of feet on pavement was deafening against the silence that settled over Union. Your eyes were on Sebastian’s back as he ran out in front of you, one of his hands clasped firmly in yours while the other brandished a pistol. The things you had seen were branded into your memory: creatures with rotting flesh, glowing red eyes and puss-filled blisters dotting their body. A ghostly lady that brought a chill to your spine as she sang a haunting lullaby. The scream and odd clicking noise that one lady with the knife made –you couldn’t forget them. You felt your stomach flip and released Sebastian’s hand –rushing to a nearby piece of greenery.

The man skid to a stop, eyes darting around to see where you’d gone off to and scanning the area for Haunted. “(Y/n)?” Sebastian shouted in a whisper. The tell-tale sounds of vomiting came in response to his cry. He found you off to the side by a bush, doubling over and holding onto your knees for support. He holstered his pistol. You were clear for now, but Sebastian knew this wouldn’t last. He needed to get you to a safe house,  _ASAP_. This wasn’t the time for dramatics. He ran to you, grabbing your shoulder and forcing you upright.  **“Get it together, (Y/n)! I need you!”**

“I can’t!” you croaked, throat sore from coughing up your last meal. “This is–! I didn’t sign up for this!”

“ _Bullshit!_ ” Sebastian grunted. “You knew exactly what you were getting into when you joined MOBIUS.” You struggled to swallow down a sob in response, causing him to feel a twinge of sympathy. His anger towards MOBIUS shouldn’t extend to you. Sebastian sighed. You were a victim too, he reminded himself. “Look, we’re gonna get outta here, but I can’t do it alone. You’re a medic, right? You can help me.”

You nodded.

“Good.” Sebastian glanced at the road ahead. It was relatively clear aside from a few Haunted shuffling about. They could make a run for the safe house. “I’m gonna take your hand again, okay? And when I say ‘go’ we’re gonna run to that building over there.” He pointed towards the Union Visitors Centre where O'Neal was holed up. “You see it?”

“Y-Yes, I do…but the Haunted–”

“Don’t worry about them, I’ll take care of it. You keep your eyes on me.”

Sebastian counted down from three, moving to hold your hand. You took a deep breath, and as he hit zero, broke out into a sprint. The eerie screeches of the Haunted coming to life put ice in your veins. You tried to look back at the corpses in your pursuit, but Sebastian’s voice prevented you from doing so.

“ **Don’t you dare look away from me!”**  he warned, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. “We’re gonna make it, I promise.”


	10. [Stefano Valentini] Scandalous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon asked: “Could you please do a headcanon or mini story on Stefano being super flirty and saying stuff about how good he is in bed since he knows so much about human anatomy. (You know, since he uses a lot of models for his art.) I laugh every time I imagine him saying that haha"

You were frozen. Stefano’s hand traced the curve of your legs, the strange sensation of his leather gloves tickling your skin. He hovered over you, radiating dominance and amusement. From your legs, he went to your thighs and hips and, finally, your chest and neck. Stefano’s head dipped down, coming to rest on your shoulder. His breath teased the skin of your throat, while one of his hands put gentle pressure on your windpipe. You desperately wanted to move, but his touch left you paralyzed.

“Are you enjoying this, my dear?” he asked. You couldn’t answer. “I know every inch of your body like the back of my hand.” His lips grazed over your neck, making you squirm beneath him. “I know what nerves to stimulate, what  _buttons to press_ …”

As he said this, Stefano dragged the blunt side of his dagger down your cheek and neck, popping the top button of your shirt before pressing the flat of it into your chest. The blade was cool, causing goosebumps te erupt all over your skin. He grinned at his handy work. You whimpered as he trailed the tip of the knife dangerously close to your collarbone, a hair away from breaking skin.

“Are you frightened?” he asked, releasing your throat. “Or aroused?”

“I-I–” you stammered, a bright blush burning on your cheeks. He laughed, pleased with what he had accomplished. The blade clattered to the floor as both of Stefano’s hands took your wrists, securing them beside your head.

“Enough words…let me show you what I’m capable of.”


	11. [Stefano Valentini] “Stop it! It tickles!” “Quit it or I’ll bite.”

“Stefano Valentini, don’t you dare!” You warned, arms crossing over your sides to protect them. The artist cared little for your meek threat. The tips of his fingers continued their path down your chest and stomach, forcing their way between your arms and prying them from your body.  **“Stop it! It tickles!”**

You squirmed on the matress beneath you, trying to get away from his teasing touch. This happened every time. From the moment Stefano found out you were ticklish, the man simply couldn’t resist torturing you with it every morning. Every yelp, every scream and every laugh you let out was music to his ears. He loved watching you thrash and writhe helplessly beneath him.

Stefano’s head disappeared beneath the sheets –the smirk he wore as he descended making you feel weak in the knees. His fingers stopped playing with your sides, and for a moment you thought the worst was over –until you felt his soft lips place a gentle kiss in their place. Instinctively, your arms shot down to push him away, but Stefano had anticipated it. He grabbed them, anchoring them to your sides as his mouth continued the brutal assault on your sensitive skin. Your back arched, desperate to escape his onslaught of teasing kisses.

The sheets rose as he made his way up your body, making sure to flick and nip at every spot he knew would make you squirm. When he finally emerged from under the covers, Stefano went straight for your lips. He watched you melt away into the kiss through half-lidded eyes, sneaking a hand closer and closer to your most sensitive spot. His kiss didn’t distract you long enough, however. You broke apart and grabbed his hand before he could poke you.

Your teeth latched onto his lips and you gave a gentle, warning pull.  **“Quit it or I’ll bite.”**

“I want you to,  _amore_.”


	12. [Joseph Oda] “I want to feel everything.”

Dark leather crawled over your exposed skin, scratching –dragging its way down your thighs. You lay motionless atop the bedsheets, allowing Joseph to explore and experiment to his heart’s content. He had had such a long day at the office. Once he walked in the door, Joseph wasted no time dragging you into the bedroom. Something must have happened. He was stressed and sorely needed to relax. You were the perfect medicine.   
  
He prowled over your body, climbing up and up until he reached your face. There was a need in his eyes that was impossible to resist. His lips devoured yours, desperately, with a hunger you hadn’t encountered in years. A needy, rumbling groan escaped him as your hands tangled into his hair and yanked. You pulled him away from your mouth, taking a moment to drink in the sight of him. A slight pink blush spread across his cheeks, sweat clinging to his brow, eyes wide with adoration: this was the Joseph only you were allowed to see. You reached for his glasses, removing them with a gentle touch and setting them on the headpiece of the bed frame.   
  
“Wouldn’t want to break those, would we?” you said before placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, right between his brows. Joseph shuddered at the small, but meaningful gesture. “Tell me, what do you want, love?”   
  
The look in his eyes darkened. Before there was something hesitant about Joseph’s actions, but the glasses had come off –now he meant business. He sat up, locking your hips beneath his and brought down one of his hands onto your stomach. It disappeared under your shirt, slowly moving the fabric up to pool above your breasts. Meanwhile, he brought to other hand to his mouth. You watched in wonder as he took the material between his teeth.   
  
“ **I want to feel** _ **everything**_ **,”**  he whispered, before tearing the glove off his fingers –digit by teasing digit.   
  
You gasped feeling the warmth of his fingers travel the curves of your body. Every stroke, every loving caress was executed with calculated precision –as you had come to expect from your lover. It never failed to drive you wild with desire. He knew your body so well, it was almost unfair how he managed to play you like a fiddle –coaxing all kinds of sounds from your lovely, delectable mouth. His bare fingers danced across your curves until they dipped in-between your thighs, pinching and fondling the newly-discovered skin.   
  
His head dipped into the crook of your neck, lips feverishly grazing over every inch of your throat –leaving a trail of kisses and bites in their wake. You tore at his shirt, cursing the fabric for forming a barrier between you and what you wanted most. Joseph got the hint, retreating to shed some of those layers and dump them on the floor. The tie stayed –only to serve as a restraint for those stubborn, greedy hands of yours. He tied them to the bedpost above your head, then leaned back to admire the full glory of his handy work.   
  
“No more distractions, no more games,” he said. “I need to feel you. All of you.”  


	13. [Stefano Valentini] “Am I scaring you?” “After everything, I’d still choose you.”

A river of blood surrounded the man you loved. There was no escaping it. He was a killer, a ruthless murderer and a psychopath. How many lives had been sacrificed for his art? There was no telling how many women had he butchered and dismembered trying to bring his vision to life. You shuddered thinking of the posibility that you could have been one of them.

The moment his eyes landed on you, the knife in his hands fell to the floor. You weren’t supposed to see this. If you had just stayed home like he told you to, you would still be living in blissful ignorance. He would have been able to come home to you, and you would have had no idea what horrors he had caused that day. You’d had your suspicions when some of his models had gone missing, but you never could have imagined he was capable of creating this much grief. Now here you were, a graveyard of corpses between you and the man you wished to hold close.

Stefano walked towards you. His steps were slow and calculated, like how one would approach a wounded animal.  **“Am I scaring you?”**  he asked. You looked at the blood dripping from his face and hands and wondered if you could trust yourself to answer truthfully.  _You were terrified_ , but you loved him all the same.

“You must think I’m a monster,” Stefano said, voice trembling. The man before you was vulnerable. A stark contrast to the beast that tore these poor people to shreds just moments ago. You made him this way. While he sliced and killed others, you were the only one who could make him feel human. “If-” Stefano pauzed, forcing down the lump in his throat. “If you want to leave me, I understand…”

Stefano turned away, almost ashamed of what he had done. Before you could stop yourself, you grabbed his shoulder and made him look back at you.  **“After everything,”**  you said, burying yourself in his chest, “ **…I’d still choose you**. Always.”

His arms locked you into a tight embrace and you swore you could feel him tremble against you. A kiss landed on you hair, and suddenly the river of blood didn’t seem to bother you that much anymore.


	14. [Stefano Valentini] “I have a secret.” “I’m pregnant!”

He had to tell you. Stefano had blood on his hands and there was no way he could continue to hide it from you. You were his wife for God’s sake! When he married you, he promised to share everything with you –that included possible murder charges. Hiding what he did wasn’t fair. You were entitled to the truth. If you would reject him, so be it. He would learn to live with the pain, for your sake.

When he walked into the kitchen that morning, his breath was taken away by your stunning beauty. Half-dressed, messy hair and all. You looked absolutely radiant today. You were making breakfast. Pancakes, it seemed. A cheerful tune escaped your lips as you hummed along to a song on the radio. Stefano didn’t know what it was about you, but something made you look even more gorgeous than usual.

What a shame he had to ruin the moment.

He snuck up behind you, gently resting his head on your shoulder and peaking at the pan on the stove. Blueberry pancakes. He loved those. You only made them for special occasions, though.

“ **I have a secret,”**  he admitted. You smiled, and his heart broke. This was going to be the hardest thing he had ever done.

“What a coincidence! Me too!”  _What?_  This complicated things, but it also gave Stefano more time to think on his words. It doesn’t happen every day that you tell your spouse you murder people for art.

“You first,” he urged, planting a kiss on your cheek.

You turned around, blushing. From your pocket, you pulled a small plastic rod. You held it up, showing off the two pink stripes in the centre.  **“I’m pregnant!”**

He kissed you, the shock of the news obliterating his worries. “That’s wonderful, darling!”

After the shower of kisses had ended, you laughed. “So what’s your secret,  _babbo_?[1]”

_Oh no_.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Stefano said. His hand gently found your stomach. This was incredible. Together you were going to create something beautiful that would outlast you both. When the time was right, he would reveal all to you. But for the time being, he had a family to think about.

-

Notes:

[1]  _“Babbo”_  - “Daddy”


	15. [Stefano Valentini] 100 Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one wasn’t requested, but it’s a gift for @two-murdered-men because she inspires me! So, here we go with a little fluffy Stefano having some quality time with his muse. We all wanna kiss one boy a hundred times, right?

Every word from your mouth, every touch –every kiss on his skin was a blessing. Stefano held you close, arms draped around your hips as you made yourself comfortable in his lap. Your fingers combed back the locks of hair in front of his damaged eye, careful and gentle –like you didn’t want to hurt him. Stefano sighed as your lips ghosted over the seared flesh near the injury. Close, yet not touching. He craved your attention. You kissed his cheek and a shiver coursed through him. Another kiss, closer to his eye this time. He let out a shaky breath, eagerly anticipating the next endearing graze of your lips.

Stefano never could have imagined finding someone like you. Someone who, despite everything that had happened, still remained by his side. But here you were, his  _muse,_ bewitching him with every token of affection. Strands of your hair tickled his skin as you moved closer to continue your path of sweet destruction across his features. With every kiss, Stefano felt himself slip away, deeper into your embrace. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of your soft lips tracing his brow and cheekbones. You kissed his forehead, down his cheeks to his mouth –where you lingered just out of reach.

Stefano peeked at you through half-lidded eyes, vision clouded with bliss. “Please, my darling –my muse,  _inspire me_!”

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” you said, speaking against his mouth, before leaning in to kiss him. His hands dug into your hips, holding on for dear life. Nothing could set his heart ablaze faster than your wonderful lips. You were addicting. Not only did you taste sweeter than any candy, your affection awakened his inspiration as well. A single kiss was enough to reveal his next masterpiece. You granted him vision, every time.

You made him feel greedy. Obsessed would be a good way to describe it. He wanted more of you – _all_  of you. A groan escaped him as you parted, but before you were completely out of reach, Stefano stole another chaste kiss. You smirked, looking at the flustered state he was in thanks to your treatment. He was all yours; all you had to do was belong to him in return. A fair trade, in your opinion.


	16. [Stefano Valentini] “How is it that every time we meet, you’re covered in blood?” “ I don’t like to share.”

The man was a beast. The first time you’d encountered Stefano Valentini, you’d unknowingly interrupted him in the midst of creating a masterpiece. ‘Slaughtering innocents’ was a better term, you found, but who were you to argue with artistic genius? Blood splattered from the neck of the unfortunate MOBIUS agent in an infinite loop, tinting the artist’s fine clothes a deep crimson. You’d screamed, drawing his eyes to you in but a fraction of an instant. Stefano let out a deep, rumbling chuckle and you were struck with a horrifying realization: he was enjoying this. Your scream, your unbridled fear had somehow delighted this maniac!

“My, my,” Stefano said, “Such wonderful,  _delicious fear_. Like music to one’s ears…” A dangerous spark gleamed in his visible eye, causing shivers to run down your spine. “Tell me,  _cara,_ have you ever modelled for a professional photographer before?” As he said this, Stefano pointed his camera at you –his predatory gaze disappearing behind the lens. “What say you we create a beautiful work of art together?”

You didn’t stick around long enough to answer, taking off like a bullet towards the nearest exit. Stefano pursued for a while –hot on your heels– but eventually lost track of you when you darted into a nearby shrub. By the skin of your teeth, you’d escaped –only to fall into another foe’s hands. You hadn’t been paying attention. After your miraculous escape from Stefano’s clutches, you had been so distracted by your victory that you didn’t notice something sneaking up on you.

A firm blow to the head was all it took to knock you out.

When you awoke, you were in a familiar place surrounded by drooling monsters. Father Theodore’s little playthings had you in chains. You were bound and beaten on the floor of the town chapel, at the mercy of one of his Harbingers. You tried to move but, brainless as they may be, these monsters had done a very good job of tying you up. The Harbinger groaned when it noticed you stirring, stalking closer to your restrained form. Its throat gurgled curiously through the rebreather as it approached, flame thrower at the ready. The other creatures backed away, allowing for the flames to surround your body. You felt the searing heat from the fire begin boil your skin and closed your eyes, fearing the moment it would eventually touch you.

Strangled cries of pain mingled with the sound of shattering glass. Heat flared up around you and you dared not open your eyes. Someone had come to your aid! You wanted to look, but another wave of heat prevented you from actually having a peek. You had a damn good idea who your saviour was, though. Among the screaming and tell-tale sounds of a fight, one noise stood out: a camera shutter. You prayed to whatever God was listening that you were wrong. When all went dead silent and the fire had stopped blazing around you, you finally opened your eyes.  _Of course, it_ _had to be him._

There he was, as bloody as when you had first seen him.  **“How is it that every time we meet,”**  you said, moving to scoot up against the back wall,  **“you’re covered in blood?”**

Stefano looked at himself and the sorry state his clothes were in –then merely shrugged in response. “Artists should never be afraid to get their hands dirty for their work, cara.” He dropped the Harbinger’s head before your feet, like a trophy kill, amused with the satisfying splat it made when it hit the floor. “Speaking of work…” Stefano started, wiping the blade of his dagger clean on the inside of his shirt-sleeve. Your eyes widened as he crouched down beside you and traced the tip of the blade over your cheek.

“Is that why you saved me?  _So you could kill me yourself?!”_

“Kill you?” Stefano chuckled. “Oh no, no,  _cara!_  I have big plans for you.” With a simple flick of his wrist, Stefano cut your bindings and freed your limbs, only to snag you in a death grip himself. “  **I don’t like to share** , you see. These  _mongrels_  should have known better than to touch anything that belonged to me.”


	17. [Joseph Oda] A Stickler for Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's so very suggestive themes in here. Not gonna lie.

Life was good with Joseph around. You were a bit of a chaotic mess, always floating off into space when you needed to be paying attention. He acted as your anchor, kept you grounded and always ensured everything went according to plan. You remember when you first started dating he would put a note on the coffee maker, telling you exactly how he liked his cuppa. Dark, extra strong with one sugar. The day you finally remembered it at the top of your head was a joyous one. The look on his face when he walked into the kitchen that morning certainly made for an entertaining sight, but that’s not why you remember that moment. You would never forget how _proud_  he was ripping that note to pieces. If the following litany of kisses and cuddles was anything to go by, you’d say that was the moment he decided to marry you.  
  
You were perfect for each other. Sure, his lists and rules would get a bit too much at times, but you needed the guidance. Be five minutes early to every appointment, never skip breakfast, socks go in the sock drawer not on the floor or under the bed, check the locks when you leave the house –the list went on for a few miles. You didn’t mind. It made you feel secure, like he always had your back no matter what.   
  
Whenever he was working early, you woke up to a note on the fridge with errands to run. That was another one of Joseph’s rules: if he wanted something done, he needed to say so. Loud and clear. Today, the list was short. Dry last night’s laundry, do the dishes and prepare dinner. Simple. You had nothing else going on today so you just threw on some shorts, one of Joseph’s old over-sized gym shirts and got to work. Pyjama days were the best days!  
  
When all your chores had been done, you still had some time to kill before Joseph came home. You decided to make things cosy. The lights were dimmed, the bed was made and music flooded the apartment. While you were setting the table for dinner, you got the distinct feeling that you were forgetting something. You glanced at the note on the fridge, going over it once more. Laundry. Dishes. Dinner. You did all that. Then what was it?  
  
Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening.   
  
“I’m home,” Joseph called. You heard shuffling in the hall as he took off his coat and put away his keys. He came into the dining area, looking absolutely exhausted. Another rough day at the office. One of these days, you were kicking Sebastian’s ass for putting him through hell like that. While Joseph took off his shoes and loosened his tie, your thoughts drifted back to your predicament. What were you forgetting? It must have been something important, or it wouldn’t bother you so much. You tried not to think about it, and instead focussed on the love of your life. The tiny little, loveable ball of stress that was in dire need of affection! 

“Welcome back, honey,” you said, coming in for a kiss like usual. A hand on your chest stopped you from getting that far. Joseph looked you up and down, brow furrowed. You blinked, confused as to why you were not allowed to greet him as you normally would.   
  
“It’s  _Monday…”_  he said, like that was supposed to mean anything to you.   
  
You looked at the calendar, just to be sure. “Uh—yes?” Oh no.  
  
Joseph’s hands grabbed the rim of your shorts and pulled your hips flush against his. “You forgot again, didn’t you?” he asked, fingers dipping under the waistband. His hand travelled deeper, diving in-between your legs. You held your breath, cheeks lighting up bright pink. Joseph’s other hand came into play, tugging at the edge of your shorts, eyes dark and filled with a teasing kind of lust. Fire started burning under your skin as you struggled to remember what he was talking about. It was rather difficult concentrating with the man’s constant assault on you senses! You looked at him, at the flick of his tongue over his lips –at the hunger that was boiling beneath the surface. Then it clicked.   
  
Oh.  _OH!_    
  
An amused chuckle rumbled in Joseph’s chest when he noticed the realization had finally hit you. “No panties on Mondays,” he reminded you, yanking down the first layer. The shorts flew across the apartment, landing on the far side by the bedroom door. “I need easy access today, you know that.”  
  
He wasn’t done yet. Joseph was a stickler for rules, after all. Especially those pertaining to the bedroom –and you’d just broken a very, very important one. Punishment was sure to follow. The flimsy fabric of your panties never stood a chance. He grabbed them, and yanked. The edges of the garment dug into your thighs and stomach before they finally ripped clean off, leaving red streaks in their absence.    
  
Joseph tossed the cloth aside, finally pulling you in for that welcome home kiss you had been craving. He lingered, greedily drinking in the taste of you. “Let’s skip dinner,” he whispered against your lips. “I’m hungering for something else.”  
  
“Wouldn’t that be against your ru–” He cut you off, swallowing the rest of your sentence with another desperate lip-lock. You melted into him, allowing him to hoist your legs up around his waist.

“Stop resisting,” he murmured, tugging at your thighs to urge you to hold on tighter.   
  
You complied, crossing your legs behind his back and squeezing them tight. Joseph groaned into your ear, pleased with the long-awaited contact. “Sure thing,  _Mister Detective,”_ you chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck as he made for the bedroom.


	18. [Stefano Valentini] “Look at you, you’re such a perfect mess.” “Scream for me.”

Stefano circled the cold metal slab you were on, gaze glued to your terrified expression. You whimpered under his attention, fighting the restraints that tied you down. The leather bands groaned at your attempts to break free, but didn’t budge in the slightest. Stefano could hardly believe how beautiful you looked. Eyes blown wide with terror, shredded sundress and blushing cheeks; it was a sight worthy of all the hardship you had put him through. He came out on top.  _Finally._  The chase had been fun –you’d put up one hell of a fight. Stefano had the bite and scratch marks to prove it, but in the end, you simply couldn’t outwit him. He cornered you and now you belonged to him –to shape and mould into his artistic vision!

Stefano brushed his fingers over his neck where your teeth had left a deep, bruising indent –shivering with delight as he recalled the feeling of them sinking into his skin. Such life you had in you –such fire! You would make a fine sculpture. If only he could decide what to do with your wonderfully voluptuous body. He continued to dance around you, observing your features from every angle. Inspiration was such a fleeting thing.

Your eyes followed his every move until he disappeared above your head. He was still there, you could feel him –could hear him breathe next to your ear. You tried to crane your neck to look at him, but before you could lean back far enough to catch a glimpse of the artist, a gloved hand came down on your throat.

“ **Look at you…”**  He squeezed, forcing a soft gasp from your lips.  **“…you’re such a perfect mess.”** The coarse material of his gloves chafed against your delicate skin as his grip tightened. You struggled, jerking your arms against your restraints –hands spasming as they tried desperately to get a hold on something, anything! You felt yourself slip away into darkness. Spots appeared on the edge of your vision, clouding your sight. They grew bigger, and bigger the longer he held on. You dreaded the idea of passing out. If you did, you might never wake up.

Thankfully, it didn’t come to that. Seconds before losing yourself in a blurry haze, Stefano released you. You gasped and coughed, greedy for fresh air. Stefano was not satisfied.

“That was…entertaining,” Stefano said. “…but not what I’m looking for.”

He looked at the blooming bruise on your windpipe and felt a rush of inspiration overwhelm him. There was only one thing that could make this picture perfect; a dash of colour! A blade landed where his hand had been, the tip only grazing the skin.  **“Scream for me,”**  Stefano demanded, applying more force. You bit your lip, refusing to give in to this maniac. Warmth spilled down your neck to your back and chest. Even as the cool steel dug into your throat, you held your own, teeth digging into your bottom lip to prevent your voice from escaping into more than a pained groan.

Stefano studied your expression, mesmerized by the glory of your pain. The downward curl in your lips, the crease in your brow –the blood spilling from your abused lips. It was gorgeous –but he needed more. Much more.

“Don’t you worry,  _cara._ If pain won’t make you scream…I’ll find another way.”


	19. [Stefano Valentini] “Only perfection is acceptable.” “This is the part where you start running.”

Stefano’s voice echoed from all sides –bouncing off the marble pillars of the Grand Theatre. You had no way of knowing where he was truly hiding. It had you petrified. One minute his presence seemed to come from right behind you, the next he was far away on the balcony above. It was driving you mad trying to determine where he would strike from next. That blade of his had already cut your fragile skin once before, and you were determined not to let him get that close again. You stood in the centre of the main hall, nervously casting your gaze in all directions as his voice rang out to taunt you.

“What a glorious specimen you are,” he purred. “You’d be perfect for my next work…unfortunately, you’re not quite ready yet.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!” you yelled into the void. A dark chuckle came in response, its source seemingly shifting from atop the tall steps to right behind you. You whirled around, first raised, ready to punch him square in the good eye. The space was empty barring a puff of blue smoke that quickly dissipated before your eyes. The bastard was playing games –and you didn’t appreciate it. You glared at the last remnants of the cloud, straining your ears in hopes of locating his position. It was no use. Stefano had gone dead silent.

This time, when he spoke, the artist’s voice was loud and clear:  **“Only perfection is acceptable.”**  You shivered at the predatory tone to his words. He was close. If only you could see him; the man was a damn ghost when he wanted to be! Your heart raced, beating against your ribcage like it was trying to escape the fear you’d imposed upon it.

An uneasy feeling settled in your gut. Something wasn’t right; a figure pulled at your shadow from behind. You turned, half-expecting to see another blue haze –instead you were faced with the man himself. A sly smirk played on Stefano’s lips as he toyed with the dagger in his palm. The blade glistened under the soft glow of the theatre lamps –casting ominous streaks of light onto your visage with each reflection. The photographer looked at you through his bangs and angled his head, curiously, anticipating your next move with great expectation. You didn’t scream, you didn’t cry –you were just frozen in place. Petrified, when finally facing the man you had so desperately tried to see all this time. It was almost poetic.

The man chuckled at your shaken state and raised a brow.  **“This is the part where you start running,”**  he prompted. Still, you didn’t move –nor did you break away from his judging eyes. A spark of defiance lit your body aflame. Fear had made way for anger. If Stefano thought you were going to turn and run with your tail tucked between your legs, he had another thing coming. You shot the man a look; an icy stare that could freeze hell and level buildings.

Without so much as a second thought, you lunged forward, slamming your fist down on his face. “I’m done running,” you said, voice calm like the eye of the storm.  

Stefano stood hunched over –holding on to his cracked, bleeding nose with both hands. A guttural growl came from his throat as he rose up, swaying on his feet a bit because of your successful blow.  _“You’re going to regret that…”_  he threatened, raising his dagger in your direction.

“Try me.”


	20. Drunken Writing: Smut with Stefano for dem thirsty anons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Got drunk. Mentioned on Tumblr smut is easier to write when I'm toasted, got several asks demanding smut. This is the result.

The deep guttural growls shook the very fibre of your being. The sounds Stefano made were inhuman. With each thrust of his hips, the bed scraped across the bedroom floor, knocking against the adjacent wall. You dangled helplessly against him, gripping –clawing– at the blankets but finding they offered no support for the merciless pace Stefano upheld. His fingernails dug into your hips, dragging down until they broke through the skin. Deep red lines marked wherever his hands had been, crimson dots tainting your delicate body across the scratch-lines. Your hips rose off the bed, coming to meet his ferocious thrusts half-way. You wanted this, you needed this more than anything in the world.

You moaned into Stefano’s ear, hands still struggling to find a hold on anything solid. His neck, his arms, his waist –anything that could ground you. It was sloppy, uncoordinated –but the delicious strokes of his cock inside you made it hard to focus. You tore at him, grabbing any piece of exposed skin you could find.  Stefano wouldn’t have it. With a brisk motion, he grabbed both of your wrist into the palm of his hand and locked them above you head.

“Stop struggling,  _cara~_ ” he purred, his dark, almost sinister look boring into your eyes. “Let me take care of you.”

He leaned back, angling his hips just right to hit that sweet spot only he knew about. While your gentle, soft moans only spurred him on, the constant wiggling of your body was very distracting. His free hand came down on your hips, keeping you from bucking into him any more. As wild and unhinged as he became during sex, there was no mistake as to who held all the cards. Stefano was in control, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. It was his job to destroy you –not the other way around. You’d be a moaning, bleeding, beaten and bruised mess before the night was done. He wanted to ruin you –to watch you lose yourself beneath his touch– and would not allow anything to deprive him of watching it happen.

You threw you head back into the soft pillow, exposing your neck; a fatal mistake when making love to a beast. Stefano’s eyes grew wide at the sight of your delectable nape, hungry for a taste. His lips descended upon your throat, teeth digging into the untouched skin. Every inch of your body belonged to him –and the artist was going to make damn sure everyone knew. He bit down, drawing a strangled scream from your lips.

The sound of your wonderful cries was enough to push him to the brink of ecstasy. His pace quickened, each stroke of his cock becoming more determined. Fire built in the pit of your stomach, taking you to a boiling point. Every whine, every needy moan was music to Stefano’s ears; but it wasn’t enough. He released your wrists, now using both hands to steady your hips as he pounded you into the bed.

“Go on,  _cara,_ ” he cooed, “ _Scream_ …scream my name…”

And you did, lungs burning as his name ripped through the silence. Your release crashed over you like a thunderstorm –every nerve in your system over-loading all at once, like a blown fusebox sparking a fire. Stefano followed suit, digging his hips into yours so not a single drop of his seed would be wasted.


	21. [Stefano Valentini] “Unless you want the entire horde to hear us, I suggest you be quiet.” “Nothing like burning corpses together to strengthen a bond.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was in a Mood™ writing this. I honestly couldn’t think of a single way to make these prompts work for Stefano but I tried my best. I used the prompts but then the story didn’t seem finished and I just kept adding and adding and suddenly it was 2000 words long. There is no happy ending to this I’m afraid. TW: GORE, TORTURE.

The flames erupting from the vehicle doubled in size, blazing out of control before a deafening blow shook the ground. You held your breath, bounding for cover behind a concrete road block. The car erupted into an intense inferno: the resulting explosion blasted the Haunted back, setting their decaying bodies aflame as they went flying to all corners of the crossroads. A blood-curdling chorus of screams echoed towards you from down the street. “Okay, so they definitely heard that,” you told your fellow MOBIUS operative, “We have to move fast!”

The soldier nodded, springing into action by dragging the remaining corpses towards the burning wreckage. **“Nothing like burning corpses together to strengthen a bond,”**  he laughed. You turned your head the other way, scouting the area for any incoming monsters, as well as hiding the sarcastic roll of your eyes from your rookie partner. Now was not the time for jokes. It had been quick thinking on your part to shoot the gas tank of that car when those creatures surrounded you; the explosion had saved your lives, albeit temporarily, but it also attracted unwanted attention to your position. 

    
“Just keep piling them on,” you called, not taking your eyes off the road, “we don’t want any of these fuckers getting back up.” In the distance you could see a swarm begin to form. This was bad. You could deal with the stragglers just fine, but once these creatures grouped together they were a lot harder to overpower. “Harrison, you better hurry up –they’re flocking.”

“I hear you!” he called. “I would help if you, I don’t kn–!” His voice was cut short, tripping every single one of your senses all at once. You whipped your head around just in time to see an unfamiliar man toss you a smirk as he slowly, deliberately, pulled a dagger from Harrison’s abdomen. You lunged for the stranger, but he was gone before you could land a hit –vanishing into a puff of blue smoke. You spun around, expecting the man to charge for you again but no sign of him remained. You had little time to pursue the attacker anyway: Harrison stumbled, his hand firmly landing on his side –blood instantly beginning to seep through his fingers. “(Y-Y/n)?” the soldier stammered, shuffling towards you with uneasy steps.

“Shit, Miles!” you let out, catching him on your shoulder only seconds before he lost balance. As he held onto you for support, you reached for your radio. “This is agent (L/n) from Alpha One, Harrison is hurt. We’re on main street, I need directions to the nearest safe house.”

No response. You repeated your message again, but the radio remained silent save for the crackling of static. “Fuck,” you stared at the Haunted that had congregated down the street, weighing your options. “Can you move on your own?”

Harrison released his hold –testing his footing on his own, then nodded somewhat half-heartedly. “Yeah, I think I can manage.”

“Head to City Hall,” you ordered, taking your pistol out of the holster. “I’ll keep them occupied.”

“What about you?” Harrison tried to reach out to you, but grimaced as a surge of pain coursed through him. “I can’t–” he groaned, fighting another agonizing pulse of hurt, “–I can’t just leave you.”

“If you really want to help, you’ll do as I say,” you snapped. “Alpha Two should be on sight. Help them get the SFE running so we can stabilize Union.”

Harrison didn’t want to dump this mess into your hands, he really didn’t, but arguing with you was no use. You were stubborn as hell, and you had a point. He would have done the same for you too. “Okay…” he said, starting his trek towards the town centre. A coordinated roar came from the flock of Haunted down the street, making Miles stop in his tracks and turn towards you. You had your back to him, pistol trained on the approaching mass of bodies. “You get back to me in one piece, damn it.”

“Just go, I got this.” You waited until Miles’ shuffling footsteps became distant noise, then turned to see him gone –to safety. Your pistol found its way back to your hip as the horde drew closer. Guns wouldn’t help you now; you only pretended to know what you were doing so Harrison wouldn’t fuss about leaving you behind. Feigning confidence was easy that way, but now the fear had truly set in. You had to run. Keep the attention on you and go the opposite direction to Miles.

You crouched down, stalking towards a glass bottle on the ground that you could use to throw them off. As you reached for it, a presence appeared behind you –betrayed by the massive shadow they cast over your form. By instinct, you tried to grab your pistol only to find a gloved hand trapping your wrist in place. You tried to pry it free, but a bloody dagger pressed to your throat made you recoil into the person behind you. A deep, sinister chuckle rumbled in the chest pressing into you back, causing you to shiver. “I had intended on using your partner for my next piece,” the man started, slowly dragging the tip of the knife down your security vest. The body armour was made for stopping bullets, but the dagger appeared to split open the seams like it was nothing. “But now I’ve got my sights set on a bigger prize.”

“Get the fuck away from me,” you bit, tugging at the hand that held your wrist. This only strengthened his hold, the rough leather pinching at your skin as the grip on your hand became unbearably tight.

**“Unless you want the entire horde to hear us,”**  Stefano said, dragging the tip of his dagger over your cheek to make you face the incoming parade of the dead,  **“I suggest you be quiet.”**

“Like hell,” you fired back. “If I’m going down, I’m taking you with me, asshole.”

The man tutted you –the mocking gesture slowly winding up into an amused chuckle. So rude! “You’re being dramatic, cara.” If that attitude of yours didn’t change soon, Stefano would be forced to leave you behind and start the hunt for fresh materials anew. He’d much prefer to avoid the hassle of finding a new target, especially since he’d already planned out his next piece and you would be perfect for the occasion. “All I want is to make you into a work of art!”   
  
Stefano rose to his feet, dragging you up with him –uncaring of your knees scraping open on the pavement or your cries of protest. You stumbled, struggling to keep pace as he dragged you backwards, away from the horde of Haunted you were supposed to distract. Miles was doomed if you didn’t do something soon! Your mind raced –you didn’t want to die, but if this man managed to whisk you away, the horde would go after your partner instead. 

So, you did the one thing that could save his life: you screamed and struggled –as loud as you could. The dagger pressed to your throat dug in –making miniscule cuts into your skin. You ignored the pain and pushed forward. For Miles. As you became increasingly frantic in your attempt at escape, the ruckus you caused attracted the attention of the creatures. However, Stefano paid no mind to your feeble endeavour, simply tugging you along into an alley. 

The Haunted wasted no time once they discovered the source of the noise, rushing at the both of you. You instantly halted your pursuit of freedom and froze both in fear and triumph. A twisted, gratified smile appeared on your lips. If you were going to die, at least you had the pleasure of taking the bastard who’d hurt Miles with you.

Unfortunately, Stefano had other plans. Just before the bulk of the horde entered the alley, a flash of bright blue blinded you. You struggled against the light, but keeping your eyes open made you feel nauseous, forcing you to close them and let whatever was happening happen. It felt like you were floating. You caught glimpses of the world around you changing: the dark, damp streets of Union faded between flashes, making way for a fancy interior. The world stopped spinning and you felt your feet collide with solid ground. You were ready: the moment you could orient yourself, you broke free from Stefano’s grasp. Mid-turn, you raised your leg –going in for a kick to the gut. He caught it with ease, throwing you off-balance.

“I rescue you from a horde of ravenous beasts, and this is how you repay me?” He pulled you flush to his chest and held you there, dagger at the ready and his free hand curled around your chin –forcing you to look him in the eye. “This behaviour is unacceptable for a lady.”

Before you could stop yourself, you spit in his face. “Bite me,” you growled.

Stefano’s gaze darkened –an undeniable rage flaring up in his visible eye. He wiped the back of his hand over his cheek, an almost disappointed frown growing on his features. “Someone ought to teach you some manners,” he snarled, releasing your face with a crude shove.

That’s the last thing you remember before waking up – _here_.

“Now you look like a proper lady,” Stefano cooed, circling around you like a vulture. You were all dolled up, literally: he’d dressed you up in a magnificent blood-red gown, your hair was curled and make-up meticulously done to make you appear more doll-like. You were truly a marvellous sight to behold: big dewy eyes and blushing cheeks, strapped to a wooden chair that flattened out your back and neck into the perfect posture. Stefano came to stop in front of you, admiring the good work he had done.

“Fuck you,” you spat, unable to think of anything witty.

“Such vulgar language,” Stefano sighed. “What’s to be done about that, hm?”

You opened your mouth to retaliate, but swallowed every word when the cool blade of his dagger came to rest on the inside of your cheek. Your eyes widened as your tongue nervously flicked over the steel surface. Stefano’s face lit up with sinister amusement.

“Such a good, obedient little girl,” he teased, carefully sliding the knife back and forth in your mouth. You held perfectly still, watching as Stefano toyed with the knife –a childlike fascination brewing within his gaze. One wrong move and you’d never speak again. You quivered, feeling the blade nick the corner of your lips. “Now will you cooperate, my dear?” he asked, sliding the blade far enough out of your mouth for you to nod. “Fantastic.”

The artist rounded the chair, stopping behind you. His arms snaked around your form, feeling you up –kneading you like putty. “Yes, you’re perfect,” Stefano hummed. You closed your eyes and bit your bottom lip, fighting the urge to yell or scream. His hands wandered further, caressing you with a softness that was contradictory to the brutality you had experienced before. As he travelled the curve of your chest, a pensive hum escaped the artist, making your eyes snap open.

“You’re still missing something. A few more arms, perhaps?” The giddy tone of his voice triggered your fight-or-flight response. You started struggling, yanking at the bonds that held you within the mad artist’s grasp. Stefano glanced back at you, annoyance seeping into the cracks of his otherwise neutral expression.

“Enough! Again with the crying!?” He sighed, grabbing your cheeks with one hand and forcing open your mouth, the sharp edge of his dagger slicing a clean horizontal line along the inner corners of your lips –giving you a deformed, permanent smile. You cried out, sobs gurgling in your throat as blood streamed down your face and neck. “There, that’s better. Now be quiet so I can work in peace.”


	22. [Ruben Victoriano] “You’ve awakened something within me.” “Breaking you is going to be so much fun.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WHAT UP IT’S THE EVIL WITHIN TIME. It’s my boi Ruben. I’m rusty as all hell and I apologize! Still getting back into my old horror-loving ways. I imagine Ruby loves to measure himself against other smarties.

Ruvik could sense your thoughts; they were a refreshing change from the fear and anger driven spirits he’d encountered before. The man followed your path from a distance, carefully observing your actions as he would those of his test subjects. Your behaviour was interesting, to say the least. Unfazed by danger, curious, yet cautious enough to stay on your toes. Despite the horrors you had faced on your journey, your resolve was unbreakable –something Ruvik found admirable as well as dangerous. Your mind was crystal clear– focussed and calm. Much like his own, in fact. This presented a problem. Inside STEM a stable mind was a powerful one, and Ruvik needed to make sure his influence remained unchallenged. **  
**

You were an intruder, a snake sent by his enemies, not a new research subject. Uninvited guests had to be dealt with –it was time to make himself known. While you were rifling through numerous pages of handwritten notes and documents, Ruvik phased in behind you. You were too preoccupied with absorbing the new information to notice his presence –which made this the perfect time to strike.

By the time you noticed the looming shadow on the wall in front of you, it was too late. You tensed up, releasing a surprised yelp and dropping the documents you had been scanning. “Who are–?!”

“Be quiet and don’t move.” The dulled cruelty behind those words sent an icy cold shiver down your spine. Despite the obvious threat, you couldn’t stop yourself from turning towards his voice. It appeared you were as stubborn as you were bold– and Ruvik wouldn’t have it. A firm hand snaked around your shoulder, grabbing your throat and forcing you to stare at a fixed spot on the wall above his desk. “I said:  _don’t move._ ”

He moved closer, bridging the distance between your back and his chest until he had you completely caged in. Your confidence wavered and he could feel the uncertainty and despair creep up on you. Ruvik felt a strange sense of satisfaction as you swallowed down a nervous gulp of air, knowing that he inspired fear in such a strong-willed individual like yourself. It was fascinating to see the first bricks of you immovable fortress of a mind begin to crumble. He wondered how far he could push you and what it would take to see you lose it.

The scientist in him wanted to pick you apart, piece by piece, and find out exactly what made you tick –unfortunately the plan was to just kill you outright. The question was, did he want to? You presented an opportunity: to test the power of one great mind against another inside STEM. This was data he never dreamed of collecting. Yet here you were, the perfect subject –practically gift wrapped and delivered to him by MOBIUS. It’s like they wanted him to find you. The temptation to let you live for the sake of science was certainly proving hard to resist.

**“You’ve awoken something inside me,”**  he admitted, the heat of his breath fanning against the skin of your neck. “An insatiable curiosity that I haven’t felt in years.” Your pulse briefly quickened beneath his fingers–causing Ruvik to crack a faint smile. Predictable. You pretended to be in control, pretended to master your fear. It was nothing more than an act, and Ruvik was determined he would find a way to break it. “I should kill you,” he said, “–but I would much rather indulge in a little experiment.”

He released you, drawing his hand back over your throat, to the back of your neck before finally letting go. As soon as you turned to meet his gaze, Ruvik phased back into the shadows –only allowing you a glimpse of his appearance staring back at you from the darkness.

The initial fright of his appearance wore off. You let out an uneasy breath, allowing it to carry your concerns and feelings away on the draw of the exhale. Ruvik felt the change in your demeanour as well. Your eyes burned with determination, but Ruvik didn’t need to look at you to know were planning on fighting back. It came off you in waves and, while you may not have realized it, STEM momentarily shuddered under the power of your mind.

It didn’t matter; he welcomed the challenge. **“Breaking you is going to be so much fun.”**  You would lose anyway.


End file.
